Tomorrow is my last day of work. I thought this would be a joyous occasion. Many times I've said I never want to go back into that place again. But now that it's actually happening, I don't know how to feel.
Part of me is excited. This signifies a big step toward being a missionary. I was talking to Matt tonight about the fact that it's easier for me to put my physical well-being into God's hands than it is for me to turn over control of my finances. Co-workers keep asking if I'm scared to move to Honduras (per CNN, "the most dangerous region on earth" outside of active war zones). The answer, truly, is no. I'm not scared to be in Honduras. But I am scared about the fact that after tomorrow, I have very little control over my finances.
The boys are very aware of me leaving. They speak of it often. They are writing me letters (which normally would not be allowed) and planning a special night tomorrow. They seem very genuine when they say they don't want me to go and will miss me. I will miss them too. I really hope the person who takes my place cares well for them.
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